Caged 6
by: Isa
PG-13
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise either belongs to J.K. Rowling or to Radiohead.
A.N.- Thank you so much to all my reviewers. Special thanks to citrus scented, better late than never. ;)
As always, thanks to the wonderful SnapeJuice, the official Mistress of Angst.
*
"When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
And I wish I was special
You're so fucking special
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here."
Creep - Radiohead
*
The greyness of the cell slowly comes to focus around me.
The pulse awakened me.
I can hear it everywhere around me.
The dark blood flowing underneath once again.
Hands reaching out for me, stretching the stone walls like rubber.
And the pulse.
Like a heartbeat. All around me. It's all I can hear.
The stone sobs and weeps.
I can taste my fear.
Feel the cold sweat, sleek on my back.
My surroundings shift, almost as if I'm underwater.
But the ocean did not come back.
At least not in its blueness.
The floor undulates beneath me.
Following the rhythm of the blood that flows within it.
Gasps resound within the cell.
They are not my own.
So dark.
Is it night?
Do the sun and moon still go on with their journey?
Even now, that the world has ended?
He comes to me.
I move so he can lie on the sheets too.
"Why do you do this to yourself?"
Oh. This is one of the good ones.
Sweet and caring Draco, if I'm not mistaken.
I don't have much patience for this one.
He always tells the truth.
"Why shouldn't I?" I indulge him.
"You're hurting yourself." He traces my eyelids with perfectly shaped fingers.
I laugh.
"I don't care if it hurts. I want to be perfect."
I turn sideways so that I'm facing him.
"For you."
His eyes shine at this.
So kind, this Draco is.
I wonder why I made him.
He starts caressing me.
His hand dips into the curve of my waist only to rise to my hip.
I can give in to this Draco.
"Whatever makes you happy," I whisper, close to his neck. "Whatever you want."
"I want you." His voice sounds uncharacteristically deep, between hungry kisses to my collarbone and below.
"I wish I was special. You're so very special," I confess.
The door opens and I turn abruptly.
He's standing there.
Impeccable dark grey suit. Matching shirt and tie.
Cufflinks shining even in the dim light.
Not a hair out of place.
Eyes smouldering like molten steel.
Eyes of a hunter and I'm the prey.
"What were you saying, Weasley?"
I smile at him, languid. "You're so very special."
He frowns distastefully.
"It would be better if you pathetic Gryffindors did not make attempts at sarcasm."
Oh! Even better!
My favourite one is back!
His frown deepens at my satisfied smile.
"Have you reconsidered?"
"I've already told you. I don't care if it hurts."
He stares at me intently. Seems to be searching for any sign that I'm joking.
"I haven't even mentioned torture," he smirks. "But if you're in that much of a hurry."
I twist on the sheets.
Cat-like seductive.
His eyes widen. He steps back. Moves to lean against the bars but thinks better of it.
He wouldn't want to dirty his pristine clothes.
He places his beautiful hands in his pockets.
"I caught one of your little friends today," he informs me casually.
Two perfectly normal people making small talk.
"It was... Oh, Merlin, what was his name?" He pauses, clearly making an effort to remember. "I just killed him, for Heaven's sake!" He seems upset.
"Describe him," I incite.
"He was a Mudblood."
I giggle. "That's not much of a description."
"He was the one always with the camera. You know," he smirks maliciously, "the one that competed with you for Potter's affections."
"Ah! Colin!" I exclaim delighted.
He nods. "That's the one."
Companionable silence.
Each of us remembers past moments from when we were younger. Feels like ages ago.
He nods again. "Yes, well, I killed him."
"Indeed?" I question indulgently.
"Yes, yes," he quickly acknowledges. "Didn't tell me a thing, though. Did he know where Potter was?"
"Of course."
He shakes his head, amused. "How Gryffindor!" He's clearly enjoying this. "To die for his friends!"
I nod my agreement.
He removes his hands from his pockets. Seems to remember why he is here.
"I'll give you tonight. Tomorrow you either tell me where Potter is or torture begins."
He makes his way out the door, not even looking back.
Tears fill my eyes.
I don't want him to go.
by: Isa
PG-13
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise either belongs to J.K. Rowling or to Radiohead.
A.N.- Thank you so much to all my reviewers. Special thanks to citrus scented, better late than never. ;)
As always, thanks to the wonderful SnapeJuice, the official Mistress of Angst.
*
"When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
And I wish I was special
You're so fucking special
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here."
Creep - Radiohead
*
The greyness of the cell slowly comes to focus around me.
The pulse awakened me.
I can hear it everywhere around me.
The dark blood flowing underneath once again.
Hands reaching out for me, stretching the stone walls like rubber.
And the pulse.
Like a heartbeat. All around me. It's all I can hear.
The stone sobs and weeps.
I can taste my fear.
Feel the cold sweat, sleek on my back.
My surroundings shift, almost as if I'm underwater.
But the ocean did not come back.
At least not in its blueness.
The floor undulates beneath me.
Following the rhythm of the blood that flows within it.
Gasps resound within the cell.
They are not my own.
So dark.
Is it night?
Do the sun and moon still go on with their journey?
Even now, that the world has ended?
He comes to me.
I move so he can lie on the sheets too.
"Why do you do this to yourself?"
Oh. This is one of the good ones.
Sweet and caring Draco, if I'm not mistaken.
I don't have much patience for this one.
He always tells the truth.
"Why shouldn't I?" I indulge him.
"You're hurting yourself." He traces my eyelids with perfectly shaped fingers.
I laugh.
"I don't care if it hurts. I want to be perfect."
I turn sideways so that I'm facing him.
"For you."
His eyes shine at this.
So kind, this Draco is.
I wonder why I made him.
He starts caressing me.
His hand dips into the curve of my waist only to rise to my hip.
I can give in to this Draco.
"Whatever makes you happy," I whisper, close to his neck. "Whatever you want."
"I want you." His voice sounds uncharacteristically deep, between hungry kisses to my collarbone and below.
"I wish I was special. You're so very special," I confess.
The door opens and I turn abruptly.
He's standing there.
Impeccable dark grey suit. Matching shirt and tie.
Cufflinks shining even in the dim light.
Not a hair out of place.
Eyes smouldering like molten steel.
Eyes of a hunter and I'm the prey.
"What were you saying, Weasley?"
I smile at him, languid. "You're so very special."
He frowns distastefully.
"It would be better if you pathetic Gryffindors did not make attempts at sarcasm."
Oh! Even better!
My favourite one is back!
His frown deepens at my satisfied smile.
"Have you reconsidered?"
"I've already told you. I don't care if it hurts."
He stares at me intently. Seems to be searching for any sign that I'm joking.
"I haven't even mentioned torture," he smirks. "But if you're in that much of a hurry."
I twist on the sheets.
Cat-like seductive.
His eyes widen. He steps back. Moves to lean against the bars but thinks better of it.
He wouldn't want to dirty his pristine clothes.
He places his beautiful hands in his pockets.
"I caught one of your little friends today," he informs me casually.
Two perfectly normal people making small talk.
"It was... Oh, Merlin, what was his name?" He pauses, clearly making an effort to remember. "I just killed him, for Heaven's sake!" He seems upset.
"Describe him," I incite.
"He was a Mudblood."
I giggle. "That's not much of a description."
"He was the one always with the camera. You know," he smirks maliciously, "the one that competed with you for Potter's affections."
"Ah! Colin!" I exclaim delighted.
He nods. "That's the one."
Companionable silence.
Each of us remembers past moments from when we were younger. Feels like ages ago.
He nods again. "Yes, well, I killed him."
"Indeed?" I question indulgently.
"Yes, yes," he quickly acknowledges. "Didn't tell me a thing, though. Did he know where Potter was?"
"Of course."
He shakes his head, amused. "How Gryffindor!" He's clearly enjoying this. "To die for his friends!"
I nod my agreement.
He removes his hands from his pockets. Seems to remember why he is here.
"I'll give you tonight. Tomorrow you either tell me where Potter is or torture begins."
He makes his way out the door, not even looking back.
Tears fill my eyes.
I don't want him to go.